Alive
by dreams and desperation
Summary: "Cashmere knew the victor was by no means lucky - she had already faced the perils - but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. She didn't want to die right now, even if it meant an adventure." Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games


Life was dangerous but being so close to death made her feel more alive.

The first time she nearly met her end was when Cashmere was five, and she was climbing a tree. She fell, and some people say she was never quite as sweet after that.

She grew more bored with every day spent in that hospital ward, and she knew right then that she wanted a life filled with action. One way to live her life that way was train, but the official centre only allowed children ages seven and older. It didn't stop her though - she taught herself at home instead.

* * *

She thrived in the training centre. She loved the power she had when she stabbed a dummy in its chest. The animated faces of the fellow children when, aged eight, she hit her first bullseye, the buzz of being in the expectant crowds during her first reaping, her older brother winning the games - all things a child from her district could never forget.

* * *

At sixteen she volunteered. She was becoming slightly deranged and it sounded fun. She didn't look for the hurt in Gloss' eyes whenever he described the games to her.

She won her games but it wasn't by chance - she had skill and sponsors. Most Capitol citizens who had sponsored her brother sponsored her as well. Even when she was shot in the arm with an arrow, someone sent her some medicine to fix it.

* * *

Being a victor was nothing like she had expected. One night in the Capitol, two men in black dragged her to a house, she screamed but the back alleys that they dragged her though were empty. After all, not many people roamed this part of town any more - there were places much more vibrant. Cashmere had liked it because it was isolated until that point - it meant that she was alone with her thoughts. Now she wished she was with the crowds, under the bright lights in shocking colours.

When she was taken inside a house she was sat on a chair and her hands and legs were tied with rope. She was helpless, attatched to this piece of mahogany furniture.

Eventually, a man appeared. "Why am I here? What is the purpose of abducting me?" She was talking with such volume and such fury that she was nearly shouting. The man smirked.

"Cashmere, it isn't abduction when I've paid."

She stopped wriggling and sat still. "What do you mean?"

"You are my property for the night, Cashmere. I bought you. I paid for your services and you will give me what I want like a good girl..."

When he approached her she tried to fight but she couldn't kick and she couldn't punch when she was tied down. She tried pleading instead, "Please, sir, please!" But he couldn't be stopped. He untied and undressed her harshly, before throwing her on to his bed and- well, you know what happened next.

When she was picked up the following morning she felt disgusted. She wanted help but she didn't know where to turn to. She usually confided in Gloss but the issues were rather too personal. She couldn't think of another option so the sixteen year old girl turned to her older brother.

When she cried, he wrapped her in an embrace. He said it was only for a little while, that clients would become disinterested after a while. He told her she would have to learn to cope, or that there would be consequences for them all. While that may have been the case for most victors, in her case he was wrong. They were selling her for years, her popularity never fading.

She went to address the president on a few occasions, but her visits were never of any use. Each time he would just remind her that she had loved ones. She knew exactly what he meant - if she didn't confirm, then he would start selling Gloss again instead. Or so that was what she thought he meant, so she reluctantly obeyed.

* * *

At nineteen, she became pregnant. It was unheard of - a pregnancy from the victor sex trade. When she found out she was devastated, she couldn't cope. _Why me?_ She didn't want to look at that child in the eyes and see what he or she was made from. That is, a one night stand with a sleazy Capitol drunkard who had paid Snow for the privilage of her company. She felt sick to her core after it. She felt even sicker now.

One day, she grabbed a knife and stared at the scars she had left on her wrist in the past months. Cut a little deeper that time, and it would all be over. No more suffering. She was ready to drag the blade across her skin when her brother paid a visit and saw what she was about to do. "Cashmere, don't." His eyes began to fill with tears and only then did she think about him. He needed her for him to stay strong, and he would not have coped without her. So she put down her knife and ran to hug him instead. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and she wept on to his shoulder. "Cashmere, why?" He asked in a pained voice.

She began to sob even more as she told him, "I'm pregnant. And I don't want it. I feel disgusting, it's growing inside of me and..." She looked up at him. "Gloss, this wasn't how it was meant to be. I wasn't meant to be a Capitol pawn. I was meant to find a guy in 1, marry him and only then have a child. Not from being a slut over there."

He let go of her and sat on the sofa, gesturing for her to sit in the space beside him. He told her that none of it was her fault, that the thing wasn't even a baby yet. But Cashmere's killing days were meant to be over, and she couldn't bring herself to murder the feutus. After all, it was alive.

* * *

That year, she didn't have to go to the Capitol for the games. She was left to stay at home. It kept her out of the spotlight and away from her patrons but she couldn't help but feel alone.

The baby came early - a girl, she named her Dazzle. Nobody outside of Victors' Village ever found out about her, she was kept a secret from the world. And even though Cashmere had sworn to hate the child, she couldn't bring herself to. It was her second chance, and she was taking it.

* * *

Fast forward several years and they were announcing the Quarter Quell twist. They were sending the past victors back in to the arena. There was nobody around so Cashmere allowed herself to cry. There was a chance she'd have to return - and she didn't want to cause any more death.

When Gloss came around that evening it was clear that he had been crying, but that he had put on a brave face since. Cashmere decided to follow suit, and when the two of them were reaped they stayed strong beside each other even though they wished to break down in tears.

* * *

In the Capitol she saw who she was facing - old friends like Enobaria from District 2. _Friends who I have to slay,_ she thought. _Just l_ _ike how I am expected to kill my own brother. Well, I won't. I'll take a stand._

She had it all planned out. She would do everything she could to stop the games from going ahead. She found several other victors besides Gloss and herself who wanted to stop the Quarter Quell also - Finnick Odair from District 4, Johanna Mason from District 7, Peeta Mellark from District 12. She couldn't convince 2, even though she had been friends with Enobaria for years. She felt betrayed.

After the interviews they accepted that enough hadn't been done, that they all had to die except one 'lucky' victor. Cashmere knew the victor was by no means lucky - she had already faced the perils - but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. She didn't want to die right now, even if it meant an adventure.

* * *

In the bloodbath she made only one kill. This time, she couldn't look her victim in the eye, but she saw her body drop in to the water. _At least it wasn't Gloss._

That night she saw the faces in the sky. She didn't want to watch but she made herself. She felt guilty. She had always used to wonder what real guilt felt like but now she wished that she had never found out. It was eating away at her, making her doubt if she deserved to live.

* * *

It wasn't very long in to the games when the careers found their rival alliance. They were going to take a back seat, observe what they did, but Gloss thought himself brave and he just went and slit the weird woman from 3's pale throat. Katniss Everdeen noticed and shot an arrow at him.

She didn't want him to die. She didn't think he deserved to die. He was a better person than she was and she would have rathered him be the one to have a full life to live. So she lunged forward, in to the battle ground. She was a goner right then, and the arrow would have hit her had Johanna's axe not have already been flying in her direction, towards her chest.

* * *

She spent so long playing games with death that she never really got the chance to be alive.

Tragic, really.


End file.
